It All Falls Down
by Amore Di Scrittura
Summary: Sam fights a sudden illness while Dean tries to hold it all together before everything comes crumbling down. The boys scrabble to remain afloat in the whirlpool of life, but maybe they can't do it alone. [Childhood Story]
1. Widsom Teeth

Well hello fellow readers! I'm Amore Di Scrittura, and this is my new story! Woo-hoo!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything you recognize...

**Summary**: Who knew that getting your wisdom teeth pulled would create such a mess? Sam fights a sudden illness while Dean tries to hold it all together before everything comes crumbling down. Childhood Story.

**Authoress Notes**: This first chapter was a personal experience of mine, and I thank god everyday that I don't have to do it ever again. As for the rest of the **angsty** chapters, well they are born from the muse making fort up in my imagination. I don't have a BETA to assist me with my story, so all of the mistakes are indeed my own... so please forgive them, as they are unintentional... and my attention span is part to blame.

**Happy Reading All:**

* * *

**It All Falls Down**

**Chapter One **

* * *

"We're gonna be late Sammy, get up!" Dean shouted through the toothbrush he was holding between his cheek and teeth.

Sam groaned softly, but the fourteen-year-old just rolled over to his stomach and pulled the pillow down over his head. "Go 'way."

Dean rolled his eyes and quickly walked back into the small bathroom in the dingy motel they'd rented and spat the foamy remnants of the toothpaste into the sink.

Weeks ago John had made dentist appointments for the boys in some whacked out town they'd be visiting for their usual hunting. How the man knew they'd be there, Dean would never know, but the man was a bit of a loose cannon when it cam to random acts.

The boys had obediently followed daddy's orders. Neither of the boy's had any cavities, but unfortunately for Sam, the dentist had broken the news that all four of his wisdom teeth had to be pulled. The dentist had explained the ordeal saying something like, "Your mouth is too compacted and there isn't enough room for any of those teeth to come down and not cause any damage," blah blah blah.

Sam had looked about ready to cry. Having someone rip your teeth out was a less than welcoming thought.

Dean had flashed the fake insurance card to the receptionist and then called John to break the news. The old man didn't seem very surprised, or interested for that matter.

"I'll set up an appointment in the next town we're hitting, in the mean time, you boys go find something to eat and report back to the motel room alright?"

And here they were a couple of weeks later. It was the morning of Sam's dreaded teeth extraction, and Dean hid his worry for Sam's lack of response. The boy despised the dentist's office with a passion and had begged their father over and over again to just forget about the bothersome teeth. Their father of course didn't budge, claiming that the job needed to be done.

"Sam, get your ass up!" Dean shouted. When he again got no response he climbed on top of his brother's bed and began jumping up and down.

A few minutes of bouncing up and down, Sam finally gave. "I'm up," he whined. He sat up and ignored the cracks Dean made about his 'alf-alfa' hair. The younger boy gently smoothed his hair out and nervously glanced at the clock that was by his bed. "I can't do this," he mumbled.

"Quite being such a girl. Besides, I hear that after this thing is over with, the dentist will put you on some pretty heavy painkillers. You'll be fine Sammy, now quickly brush your teeth and let's get going."

Yeah, Dean's version of comfort wasn't really what his little brother was looking for at the time.

"Where's dad?"

Dean shrugged. "He's out doing research, but he said he'll try to make it."

Sam snorted. His dad wouldn't be there.

"Let's get a move on."

* * *

Minutes later the two brothers were sitting in the waiting room.

Sam was bouncing his left leg up and down tensely while Dean had found a magazine with a beautiful girl on the cover and began looking through it.

"Sam, stop doing that," Dean ordered. Sam bouncing his leg was beginning to make him nervous and he'd start bouncing his damn leg if the madness didn't stop.

"I can't," Sam whined.

Dean shut the magazine with a huff and placed his strong hand on Sam's knee, bringing the bouncing to an abrupt halt. "Yes you can. _See_?"

Sam shook his head. "That's not what I meant, I can't to this," the boy motioned around the room.

"Sure you can," Dean told him confidently. "Look, you won't feel a thing, they're gonna numb you up…"

"Sam Gregson?" a feminine voice asked from the entryway of the waiting room.

"That's me," Sam croaked nervously.

"We're ready for you," the woman explained.

Sam's face seemed to drain of all color, but a soft hand on his shoulder grounded him.

"You're gonna be fine Sammy, I'll be right here if you need me," Dean reassured.

Sam nodded and gave his brother a half-smile. "See you in an hour."

"I'll be here."

* * *

The woman led Sam back into a little cubicle and ordered him to take off his jacket. "I'll go give this to your brother so you don't forget it alright?"

Sam had nodded in obedience and sat back in the dentist chair. His eyes trailed around the room, taking in all of the little tools that secretly scared the crap out of him.

"Hello Mr. Gregson," a man in scrubs greeted as he entered the room. The man had to be in his early thirties, an amateur of sorts. "I'm Jason Coleman, and I'll be taking out those wisdom teeth for you today alright?"

Sam didn't trust himself to speak so he just nodded.

"Have you ever had nitrous gas Sam?" The man asked as he sat down in a chair with wheels. He opened a drawer and pulled out two puke green gloves and slipped them over his hands.

Sam shook his head. Nitrous sounded familiar, but he wasn't really sure what it was.

"Well then today is your lucky day son. Nitrous is a gas we'll be using on you today. It will relax you and make our jobs a little easier. Is that okay?"

Sam bobbed his head. He did feel a little uncomfortable with the fact that he wouldn't be in control of his body, but if this stuff was going to keep him from freaking out then it didn't seem like such a bad idea.

The dentist smiled down at him and pushed a button that Sam couldn't see and the chair moved down, putting him further beneath the man who was going to be ripping his teeth out. Then, some kind of a mask was place over his nose and he eyed the ugly beige object with distaste.

"Alrighty, when I turn this baby on I want you to take a few deep breaths and tell me when you feel something," Jason instructed.

Sam sat and waited. He could feel the gas moving up in his nose, tickling it.

Moments passed and Sam felt nothing, he was still panicky and had not yet been put to ease.

"Feel anything yet?"

"Nah-uh," Sam told the dentist with a slight shake of his head.

"Are you an alcoholic?" Jason asked jokingly.

Sam furrowed his eyebrows; he has the occasional illegal beer with his older brother but… "No."

The dentist raised and eyebrow at the confused look on the kids face. "I'm just kidding bud. I'm going to turn up the Nitrous and remember to tell me when you feel it. Breathe deep."

Sam waited patiently, almost becoming annoyed at the lack of peace he was supposed to be feeling. Suddenly numbness spread throughout the lower part of his body and served to scare him. "Uh…"

"You feeling it now?"

Sam nodded and allowed the room to flutter around him. His eyes stopped to rest on the ceiling above him where little pictures decorated the space. There were a few relaxing pictures, such as a forest, a beach, and a grove of flowers. But what really kept his attention was the furry baby seal directly above him.

The boy could barely hear the dentist ask him to open his mouth. He did and felt a stinging sensation in his gums. It hurt and his eyes wandered curiously over to the dentist who held a very large needle in his hand.

"Don't look at my hand Sam, you know what I'm holding so just concentrate on my face," Jason coaxed.

Sam obeyed and looked over to the man; he wondered when Coleman had put the mask on… he must not have been paying attention.

His attention wandered again as the dentist spoke to his female assistant, asking for tools. He heard something to the right of his ear, and his eyes moved to rest on a candy cane shaped tube.

"Can you open your mouth again for me honey?" the nurse cooed, smiling and placing a gloved to the side of his face.

Sam's mouth dropped open and the tube was placed inside and instantly began sucking the saliva from his mouth. He felt like giggling at the sensation and it dawned on him that the nitrous was messing with his head.

"Does it feel good bud? You're still feeling it right?"

Sam nodded, and a couple giggles left him.

"Oh yeah, he's still feeling it… alright Susan let's get these babies out so Sammy-boy here can go home and rest," the dentist spoke and began looking around Sam's mouth.

To Sam, time passed quickly. Every now and then the numbing sensation would renew itself and Sam's thoughts would swim. He couldn't even feel the teeth coming out, his face was blessedly numb, and he was incredibly delighted about it.

"You okay there Sammy-boy?" the dentist asked curiously as he looked down at the boy through his masked face.

Sam nodded and laughed again, realizing that he might have actually nodded off.

"We're done now son," Jason educated him with a pat to his shoulder. "What we're gonna do is run oxygen through the tube up your nose to get the nitrous out of your body alright?"

"Sounds good," Sam slurred.

"Do you want your brother to come sit with you while we run the oxygen bud?"

Sam nodded jerkily as the oxygen was turned on and began filtering out the nitrous gas. He could still feel the nitrous, and part of him didn't want the feeling to go away.

"Hey Sammy," Dean greeted his little brother as he entered the small room. He eyed the mask over his brother's nose and looked to the dentist questioningly. "What's that for?"

The dentist smiled. "We gave your brother nitrous to relax him, and as we speak, oxygen is running through to get rid of the nitrous."

"So you're saying that that stuff knocks people on their asses?"

"Asses?" Sam giggled and gripped the chairs armrest.

The dentist laughed at Sam's outburst. "Obviously," he acknowledged. "And although there's only oxygen going through the line now, the effects will last for the rest of the night, but should be gone by the morning."

Dean nodded in confirmation. "Is he going to be that bad?"

The dentist chuckled again. "Uh, no. He'll be kind of tipsy, but with the painkillers we'll be prescribing he'll probably be sleeping for the bulk of today anyway."

"What can he eat?"

"He will probably choose not to eat anything for the duration of the day. It seems to be hard to eat anything when your mouth is bleeding and swollen," the dentist explained.

"What about when he _can_ eat?"

"Mashed potatoes, jello, pudding… you know soft things that don't require much chewing. Oh and he can't use straws."

"Why?"

The dentist walked over to the counter and pulled open a drawer, drew a clear baggie filled with white gauze and handed it to Dean along with a half-sheet paper. "If he uses a straw, then he'll disturb the blood clots around the sutures we placed in his mouth and then he'll bleed all over again."

"Is the pain going to be bad?" Dean asked. He always hated it when Sam was in pain, it always caused him to cringe, and he'd scrabble to find a way to make it better.

"Not with the painkillers. We'll also be prescribing an antibiotic to prevent infection," the dentist made clear. "He'll need to apply ice packs constantly to prevent swelling. But other than that, he's set to go."

Dean looked down to Sam who was looking up at him with those innocent puppy-dog eyes. He sighed and ruffled his brother's brown mop. "You ready to go bud?"

Sam's head bobbed up and down. "M' tired," he mumbled as the nurse pulled the mask from his nose.

The dentist slapped the prescription paper into Dean's hand and clapped him on the shoulder. "If you have any questions, concerns, or problems, than just give me a call and we'll get it taken care of."

Dean flashed a grin and shook the man's hand. "Thanks."

The dentists chair growled as it was moved back up into its original place and Dean pulled his little brother up and kept him from falling over when he teetered.

"Whoa there bud," the dentist laughed at the disoriented teen and then turned to the older brother. "You need some help getting him to your car?"

"I got it," Dean reassured and helped Sam getting his gradually growing limbs into his jacket. "Let's go Sammy."

* * *

Sam remained silent on the way back to the motel. His mouth was wedged open from the gauze that was stuffed into the crooks of his jaw, and he knew that if Dean didn't feel so guilty about making him get his teeth out than he'd be cracking jokes.

But Dean was torn. He wanted to run to the nearest grocery store to pickup Sam's meds, but feared leaving _or_ taking him inside when his limbs seem unable to cooperate with his brain. "Wanna go back and sleep at the motel and I'll go get your medication Sammy?"

Sam shrugged, but eventually nodded. "I can't talk," Sam slurred miserably.

Dean couldn't stop the laugh that ripped from his lips. He tried not to laugh again as Sam glared at him with his mouth hanging open from the gauze. "I'm sorry," he apologized. Sam's face was already beginning to swell, and he knew that he'd need to add that to the growing list of items needed for his little brother.

Sam just shook his head and folded his arms over his chest and stared out the window, out at the passing scenery.

"Well since you clearly can't talk to dad, I'll call him and tell him how it went."

Sam ignored him and quickly got out of the Impala when they entered the parking lot of the motel.

"Take the keys Sam," Dean instructed, throwing the keys to open their door into Sam's open hands. "Get some sleep and I'll try to hurry back alright?"

Sam nodded unhappily and stomped into the room, slamming and then locking the door behind him. He plopped down on the bed, being careful of his swelling face.

_Why me?_ His mind screamed.

He turned the TV on and watched the boring infomercials that were showing of the knives that apparently never dulled.

Fatigue set in, and his eyelids drooped downwards until they rested against his milky white cheeks. He was off to dream of a picket white fence life he'd never be able to have.

* * *

TBC... Reviews are nice... they keep me warm when it's cold out 


	2. Daffy Duck

Disclaimer: Read chapter one and it'll be waiting for you there...

Warnings: None this chapter.

Notes: Wow, It's been so long... I'm so sorry, thank god summer is coming so I can do my thing and write more :D

I'm so psyched that I got so many positive reviews for this story and you all are my heroes! You amp me into getting more ideas and thus a new chapter is born. I'm seriously going to get my act together so I can accelerate this story cause it's mean to leave it where it is...

Enough babble, I hope there's still some interest in this story and I hope it doesn't disappoint.

Chapter Two:

* * *

"Sammy," a soft voice flittered into Sam's consciousness.

As soon as awareness hit him, so did the pain, and it was all pouring from his mouth. He moaned helplessly and allowed his eyes to slide open.

"Daaa?" he slurred miserably as he looked up into his father's stoic expression.

"Yeah bud, it's me," the father confirmed and ran a calloused hand through his son's brown mop of hair. "You don't look so bad."

Sam shrugged and wanted to tell his father that he'd gladly trade him positions but decided against, realizing that even in his pained stupor he should be enjoying the bonding moment. "Where Deaaa?"

John laughed softly at his son's slurred speech. "He's on his way back from the pharmacist; they wouldn't let him fill the prescription without formal filing papers."

Sam nodded slightly but stopped immediately when he realized doing so made him want to throw up. "'M tired."

"Go back to bed bud and I'll wake you up when your brother gets back with your stuff," John told him. He knew his son must feel like crap, no ones face could swell up like that and still be okay. His son even marginally looked like the state-puff-marshmallow-man.

The father kept an eye on his sleeping son while he went through his journal, along with the books he'd gotten from the local library. Sam would groan every now and then, squirm until he could find a comfortable position, and then lie still again.

The young man sighed wearily as his body finally turned off for a while, giving him reprieve from the discomfort.

* * *

"I'm back," Dean announced as he came bouncing into the motel room. 

"Shhhh!" John scolded and looked over to his youngest to make sure he was still out. Luckily he just squirmed again and was still under the veil of sleep.

"What?" Dean asked innocently as he sat down on his little brother's bed. "He has to wake up for his drugs anyway."

John glared at his oldest. "That doesn't mean you have to alert the whole damned motel that you're back Dean."

Dean shrugged and turned to his baby brother. "Hey kid," he greeted as he gently shook him back into consciousness.

Sam sighed as if he was expecting this and opened his eyes. "Wheere have you beeeeen?"

Dean chuckled at the garbled English. "Never fear Sammy, I have your drugs." Dean smiled brightly as he held out a white bag with papers stapled to the front.

Sam stared at him as if he were Jesus himself. "Gib em' to me," Sam slurred and reached up to grab the bag.

Dean laughed again and pulled the bag back before Sam could latch onto it.

John snorted as he watched Sam try to glare a hole through the bag. He decided it was time to intervene and stood up, walking over to his eldest. "Go down to the vending machine and get some juice or something he can take the pills with Dean," he instructed as he threw his eldest son his wallet. "And I know how much is in there Dean."

Dean just grinned impishly; quickly patted Sam's tousled hair, and walked out the door.

The bed dipped gently as another body sat down. "How are you feeling Sammy?"

Sam looked up at his dad, well aware that his cheeks resembled those of Alvin the chipmunks. "It hurtsth," he slurred, sounding precariously like Donald Duck.

John nodded in understanding and let his son's head rest in the crook of his arm as he sidled up against the headboard. "I called the dentist and he said the numbness in your mouth should be wearing off soon."

Sam groaned a little, and leaned into his father's touch. "Dis sucks." He had been feeling more and more of his face for a while and knew what his dad just told him was true. With that realization, Sam decided that it was fair for him to hate every dentist on planet earth.

John let out a snort of agreement as Dean walked back in with a small carton of juice and dropped the small carton on the bed while snatching the drugs from where he'd dropped them before leaving. "Alrighty Sammy, the dentist gave you the good stuff… Oxycodone, better known as Oxycontin."

Dean studied the sheet and went on, "5 mg every 6 hours as needed, and side effects may include, constipation, dizziness, drowsiness, dry mouth, headache, increased sweating, itching of skin, nausea, shortness of breath, vomiting, and weakness."

"Bummer," Dean muttered as he twisted the cap from the ugly orange bottle. He let the white pill pop out onto his palm and twisted the cap back on. "You think you can manage taking this without a straw Sammy?"

The young man held out his hand and nodded at his older brother. Sam's eyebrows creased confusedly when two pills plopped down into his hand, they both looked different and he looked up to his brother in question.

"One of em's for pain, the other is to keep infection away remember? The antibiotic," Dean informed.

Sam painstakingly swallowed with the assistance of his father who still held him. Afterwards he just dropped back and fell asleep the second the medication kicked in.

It felt so nice…

* * *

Sam had fallen into a drugged sleep, his body finding momentary relief from the immense discomfort. 

The first thing Sam heard on his return to consciousness was the soft voices of his father and brother. The two didn't seem to be angry at each other and Sam shortly reached the realization that they were discussing what John had found in his search for information on his latest pursuit.

Sam's mouth was throbbing and he fought to keep himself from whimpering in pain. Sam knew that Dean enjoyed being included in their father's work and his little brother just didn't have the heart to break up the moment.

Besides, Sam was way too groggy to even care about listening in. He just let their voices fill his senses and comfort him as the pain in his mouth receded to a more bearable level.

And Sam allowed himself to drift, the darkness pulling him back into itself.

With his second awakening, the youngest Winchester found himself uncomfortable so he writhed around a bit as he tried to seek a more comfortable position that would let him fall back to sleep… even though his positions were limited to staying on his back.

"Sam? Are you awake?"

Sam froze slightly, and he wondered distantly if he could still fake unconsciousness.

"Sam," the deeper voice came, and Sam gave up, settling and slowly peeling back his sticky eyelids.

"Hey kiddo," Dean beamed down at him as he ran his fingers through Sam's brown mop.

Sam decided it would be a lot less painful, not to mention less embarrassing if he just kept his mouth closed. He did his best to give his brother a smile, but after being unsuccessful, just grabbed his brother's hand and squeezed it lightly.

"How're you feeling?" Sam lifted his hand and shook it slightly, indicating that his was alright.

Sam watched his brother turn and grab one of the orange pill bottles from the nightstand table and read it.

"It's too soon for more drugs Sammy," Dean explained apologetically. "So it's probably a good thing you're okay right now."

Sam stared. He wished Dean hadn't mentioned the drugs, because his mind connected that to pain and now his mouth was on fire.

"Hmm," Sam mumbled through the mass of bloody gauze stuffed in his mouth. "Hurtsth," Sam slurred.

Dean looked down at Sam, an oddly remorseful look covering his features. "I know Sam, but you need to wait for another two hours before I can give you more. The last thing we need is an OD'd Sammy."

Sam let out a painful sigh, letting his eyes seek out his father, and it was with much confusion that Sam realized John wasn't there.

"Dad?" he asked, turning to Dean.

Something flickered across Dean's face akin to pain and then he blanked, the emotion leaving as quickly as it appeared. "He went out," Dean replied softly.

"Oh," Sam stated awkwardly.

"Get some sleep," Dean advised, placing his hand on is little brother's forehead.

Sam was too tired to disobey and argue that he was spending most of his time sleeping but finally he let himself fall yet again himself into the arms of darkness. The only thing guiding him back was his brother.

* * *

TBC... 


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